Title: Rubik's Interface

Author: Rose etta

Email: rose_eTTTa@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Challenge: "Pet" CLFF #20

Notes: Fun mind-game, drama, hurt-comfort, romance. No warnings. Dedicated to frelling_tralk, to whom I hated to say No.

Summary: When Superman busts 33.1, Luthor gets an Arctic 'time-out', and the AI is in charge while Supes is away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With a snap, the sloop sail of a red cloak whipped and flowed as Kal-El lowered himself against gravity, downward - subterranean - floor by floor, through holes he'd drilled earlier that day, the day they finally broke Level 33.1.

Stately, he descended to land evenly upon the silo-deep floor, crimson fabric gently settling about him. The super-being from another world strode through the final room decontaminated of his foil, green-K: the busted safe-room holding Lex Luthor and his remaining bodyguard.

Lex Luthor stood calmly in his impeccable suit, shackled hand and foot, staring intently as he faced his arch-enemy, the Man of Steel from the Red Sun'd world.

Mercy was being strapped into a secure gurney and lifted up, onto Aussie grunts who hoisted her in a brusque manner, that this beauteous slip of destruction had taken so many of their colleagues. With each of her bearers' jostling steps, her lovely blonde head lolled, below it's grime and blood trails.

"Thank you, Mercy!" Luthor called out to her when her slightly-dazed eyes met his, and there was admiration in his tone as she was slid past him...which tracked his eyes...over to him.

Fresh fury within, Luthor once more transmuted it, compacted it, banked it, against need, and now he merely glared from blue eyes of ice.

"As usual, Kal-El," Luthor began, "you can't even comprehend the damage you've done here today." He addressed Superman on a first-name basis, detesting the popular moniker and denying they were anything but peers.

But taunts were for naught, for once. The battle had changed, had stopped, was - no more.

Something had broken inside of Kal-El, who was putting a huge effort into closing his expression off, to look strong.

Kal-El did, however, place a hand on Luthor's shoulder, heavily, and brought their faces close - close enough to rustle out words, unheard by personnel of the Aussie army unit who covered his nemesis with guns drawn, some yards back, removed.

With this, Luthor had gone instantly silent and alert, from the change to the usual contretemps between him and the alien. He observed Kal-El keenly, scanning, and then tensed to avoid shuddering with each exhalation into his ear.

"You've...gone...too far..." Kal-El grated out, and, after looking away to compose himself once more, he turned and spoke more smoothly.

"Captain," Kal-El addressed the sandy-haired older gentleman, who stood by the camp-desk his hustling adjutant was still setting-up in the midst of it all. "I've personally relocated the...problematic...inmates, to locales specific to their particular needs."

He asked the captain, "Would your team be able to transport the remaining inmates of 33.1 to where the U.S. can claim them? Their destination, for now, is Belle Reve, which I've explained to the authorities, is a secure location, at least temporarily, to address the dangers this particular population holds."

"Don't you worry about that, Superman, Sir," the army leader replied, "I've got my boys sorting that out right now. And, I 'd like to thank you for those profiles of the lot you knew before - poor buggers."

Hesitating, the captain then added, "And, will we be takin' custody of Mistah Luthor also, at this time, or...?"

"Let me ask you, first," Kal-El responded, eyes thoughtful.  "What's it looking like, for evidence?"

With a sharp 'Tsk', the captain admitted, "Well, it looks like Luthor, here, had the compound booby-trapped. It's like a million little balloons of acid detonated all at once when we breached it. Every circuit board, every test device, all the hand-helds... they're all slag."

Canvas hat folded in hand as he wiped across his brow with the khaki sleeve of his free arm, the captain turned and spat on the concrete-powdered floor behind him, in frustration.

"Bloody hell. I'm tellin' ya, Superman, I haven't ever seen a place without one single bit of paper in it! Nothing."  Shaking his head, he concluded, "They musta' 'ad a rule of "No Hard Copies," of anything, at all, ever!"

Luthor, conspicuously nonchalant, pretended interest in the clean-up being done by the army personnel who worked off to his side, his smirk just faint enough to telegraph its intention.

Kal-El took it all in, looking around, working hard to subdue his response, so as not to over-gratify Luthor's known lust for his distress, which he could feel Luthor feeding on, from the little glances sent, sharp, his way.

It took the passing of time before Kal-El's mouth hardened into a tight, rather grim, line, and at length he responded.

"No, Captain Brogan, I think I need to take custody of Mister Luthor for...a bit of time."

He looked over and sent a nod, "Please give the Western-Sector General my gratitude, and ...I'll be contacting him regarding Mister Luthor...after a while," and he assumed his stern, square-jawed set of the head as he folded his bright-blue arms before his primary-colored sigil.

This statement greatly cheered the bloke replacing his dusty desert flop-hat, for he clearly believed the Devil was due to get his come-up, and he grinned through his salute to Kal-El, then turned away, to direct his troops, eager to share 'the news'.

Alone, now, together, the swirl of chaos surrounding them, Kal-el twirled around to see Luthor directly regarding him, insolence in the hold of his form, as he responded to what he'd overheard.

"So tell me, O!, super man," Luthor de-emphasized. "What kind of custody are you meting out today?"

Though he knew the score, he asked it anyway: "Legal Custody...or Alien-Just-Because-I-Can Do-It Custody?"

"The latter," came Kal-El's response.

"Hey!" Luthor squawked aloud when he saw the blue-costumed arm enwrap him in bright billows, which brought Luthor darkness.

"Wait a sec-" Luthor exclaimed, at one moment in time, in the dry Outback -

Within that moment of time, before Luthor would see light next, Kal-El had swept them to his Arctic Fortress to descend within.

But before that moment ended, however, the taut, blue form froze still in the air, arms wrapped 'round crimson chrysalis, then began a blinding spin, till gold light shone forth, in brilliance.

- then Luthor finished, "-ond!" to stare around in momentary off-balance, noticing the feel of fluttery snowflakes melting upon the globe of his bare, warm head - and, then, upon his astonished, upturned face, as he looked around, sucking his breath, in amazement, at the frosty angular shafts reaching so high.

With difficulty, Luthor sought aplomb by the time his shoulders had been freed.

"Where -, where have you just kidnapped me?" Luthor sputtered, as the protective cloak was peeled off him, "I demand to know!"

"Shut up, Luthor," Kal-El said, with the mildly dismissive tone that he could enjoy, for once, from being on home ground, and he clamped a rough hand on Luthor's shoulder, causing a clanking of chains and manacles. "Don't move for a few moments," and he turned away, to approach his crystalline command console.

Having already set his mental monitor to 'Record', with Kal-El's back to him now, Luthor glanced or stared at everything, strikingly attentive. When he began to shiver from his lack of weather gear, he was annoyed his manacles prevented the use of his trouser pockets to warm his hands.

His arms crossed over his chest, now, he huddled to warm his fingertips as best as they could reach, and he cursed to himself, then venomously, aloud, to his captor.

"You don't have any authority over me, Kal-El," Luthor breathed-out harshly, between hearty exclamations as to the extreme temperature, "Fuck! it's cold, here."

"Don't worry," Kal-El said, somewhat curtly, "I'm having the AI adjust the ambient tempt for you, now." Then he returned his attention to his console.

"Hey, Extra-Wide-Load-estrial!" Luthor yelled, and when Kal-El spared a glance, said, "Yeah, you! I don't know what you think you're doing. You're breaking some major, non-hero-reputation-friendly laws, here."

Luthor was being ignored. He tweaked his lip in frustration as he gave a kick at the heavy, cold mist that slithered the floor and snaked the bases of the massive, cubic-ridged columns rising from chasms all around.

"You know," Luthor began his vocal musing, "it's funny, but I don't seem to remember being taught Kryptonian history in school."

Luthor took a breath and continued.

"And, I believe it therefore follows, stupor man, that MY Constitution does not support what the passing UFO-ster randomly feels like doing to a Human goddamn Being, on any given, goddamn, day!"

Still nothing from the super-being, who was standing still, facing slightly upward now, his eyes closed.

Muttering, Luthor fretted, "I can't believe, going from my Kryptonite safe-room ...to this shithead's fucking lair!"

Then he groused, "Look at him, over there..." but he stopped, as an odd perspective swept his mind.

~~~my god, could he really be an android?~~~

Luthor put his brain to spin on that, as he renewed his verbal harangue.

"So, Kal-El," Luthor expanded, "do I really have to paint out the picture for you? The charity proceeds from your toy sales?" Luthor answered, "Well, they're mine, now."

Rocking onto his heels, Luthor continued, "Non-profit Superman-Inc will face a civil judgment, ordering it to pay the incredibly-high legal fees of my top-flight attorneys... then, add total business losses resultant of my enforced absence... which, heh, I'll calculate, of course... then, there's triple damages for..."

But, at the scowling face appearing instantly before him, Luthor broke it off.

"Want me to toss you over?" Kal-El said with a short jerk of his head toward the sheer edge of the thick ice shaft they perched upon, barely wide across for a flying being and a command station, "just so I can catch you...at the bottom?

Looking away, Luthor responded with a quirk to his lips while the boredom settled in, as it always did, when Kal-El threatened to play his Dark Superman-card. In non-verbal protest, the billionaire assumed an emphasized docile-prisoner posture.

~~~how can eyes~~~that pretty~~~hide such a little bitch?~~~ Luthor thought to himself as he watched Kal-El, who had just slipped a short crystalline obelisk into a tall clear tube.

Luthor noticed no immediate result to the action, as Kel-El stood, seemingly in anticipation. But, slowly, there began increasing rumbling and shaking, and, rapidly, Luthor grew alarmed, despite himself.

~~~on the other hand, it's good to have a Superman around during an evident Arctic earthquake~~~ Luthor admitted to himself.

For, it truly looked as if the massive, crystalline columns at the far end of his line of sight, in the vast distance beyond, were performing a slow boil, with some ice shafts riding upward, to join with other sections as they were met, sliding down.

Then, there was a sudden stillness and now Luthor could make out a huge, flat area, where before a bizarre jumble had lain amid the thick, churning mist.

Kal-El looked across the vast hall, into the distance, toward the several acres that the Fortress' Artificial Intelligence had formed, per the Kryptonian's crystal-coded command.

Looking impressed, for once, Luthor looked back to Kal-El, whose hands were now a blur of smaller crystals passing from colored-chamber to colored-chamber.

Tinkling, sharper explosions cracked forth from the ice-mesa, which arrested Luthor's attention back to the distance.

When all was quiet once more, Luthor turned to find Kal-El studying him, then grimaced when the brightly-clad figure began his approach.

The alien stood before him now, red boots dug in, blue arms crossed, fabric floimsonwing from each shoulder, like cr epaulets donned for flight.

With a pained sigh, Luthor rolled his eyes a bit and asked, "Alright, let's get it over with!"

Looking mildly amazed at Luthor's attitude, Kal-El finally began his reprimand.

"Lex," he said, "you do know who I am, right?" and he dipped his head down, into Luthor's face.

A short surprised chuckle from the human, then, "Oh," then, after nodding his head, "Ah, so, it's 'Lex', now?"

He licked his lips as he paused, then admitted, "Yes, I suppose that means you want me to call you, 'Clark'..."

His face changed, "But the 'Clark', I knew, is dead and gone, and, since then, you're merely the alien, Kal-El, now," and his expression was hard, from the saying of it.

Kal-El went right on, ignoring the bitter drench of those words.

"Lex, you were keeping whole fucking families in that personal asylum of yours! No freedom...no life...just existing for your tests!"

He grew exasperated, as Luthor seemed to be waiting for Kal-el to come to his point.

Searching for words, Kal-El unfolded his arms and gestured toward his face, "Lex! You were doing my worst nightmare!"

Suavely indignant, Luthor gave a little harrumph, then tossed-off, "Surely, not! They had the best of everything!" then listed, "Medical care, food, sanitation..."

In a mild horror, Kal-El held his frown, then said, "Lex, there were kids in there! ...living their lives as ...as, your test-subjects!"

~~~his color is so high~~~ some part of Lex noticed in passing as they stood, not far apart.

"What?" Luthor finally smirked. "I'm supposed to send 'Cindy-Lou Mutant' off to Nursery School, so she can suck the life out of a couple of playmates?"

Mouth and eyes open, Kal-El was aghast, then bit out, "They are human beings, Lex, for chrissake! You can't set up your own personal community of inmates, outside of public systems," he sputtered on, "and away from - from public scrutiny!"

Riled, Luthor leaned forward, "Well, I'm not about to let public institutions fuck-up something as delicate at this operation!" and his manacles shook along their chains, down to his feet.

"'This operation'" Kal-El leaned down to shout, "is something the world is supposed to know better, not to do!"

Kal-El moved in close, cocking his head to one side, then the other, taunting, "Mister…History…Lesson."

Lex muttered, "That's, 'Foreign History', to you."

Folding his arms once more, the alien asked, "Or, perhaps in history, you found a man to admire?"

"You know, if I had my watch on," Lex stated flatly, "I'd see if I won my bet with myself, on how long it would take you to make the Mengele-comparison," but then Lex mimed checking his wrist.

"Oh, look," Lex said without joy, "I did win the prize," then he sought Kal-El's eyes, "A flying doll, with stuffing in his head."

Kal-El clamped down his expression and spun on his boot heel to pace in agitation.

In a minute, Luthor inquired, "So, what's with all the real estate modification?

As if called back from deep thought, Kal-El's expression, upon turning, was genuinely sad, more than anything.

"Lex, you're going to be staying here, for a while."

Luthor's mouth popped open at the shock, and he gasped, "You're kidding me, right? You - the guy specifically preaching, don't lock people up outside of public systems?"

With chained hands barely above waist-level in mock supplication to the heavens, Luthor complained.

"This is what I get, for all my subtle genius?" then dropped his eyes to Kal-El's, to catalogue:

"I get a simple-minded..."

Kal-El sighed and tilted his head back slightly as he parked his focus up high. He placed his hands on his hips, preparing for an expected onslaught of insult.

"...do-gooder, whose..." and Lex raised his brows lightly through his nasal pronunciation of, "...up-bringing..."

This slap at Smallville brought forth a glare, to which Lex now smirked as he added on,

"...sapped even a rudimentary sense of basic irony those poor alien parents might have hoped for their child to possess....."

At that, he paused, playing at catching himself.

"I mean," Lex corrected, "...'what they might have hoped, for their 'it' to possess'..."

At the curl Luthor's lip and pointed look, Kal-El departed instantly, to places unknown, and Lex wore a pleased look as he quietly chuckled.

Soon, Lex heard echoed noises from the far reaches of the newly raised mesa of ice and he busied himself trying to discern through the light mist what he could.

**

"Hurry up, over there!" Lex roared after a while. "I'm missing an important meeting as we speak, and I'll call you to task, publicly, over any..."

"Stuff it, Lex," the reply came, in a sudden instant that Kal-El now stood before him, retuning from the distance in a blink. "I don't...want... to hear it."

Stifling a physical start, always so difficult for Lex, what with the alarming suddenness of arrival and departure around this creature. Luthor got his juices up, settling in for another round.

"By all means," Lex squared his shoulders, glad to get going again, "I'm your captive audience," and he jangled his hands before him. "Do, let me hear your Sup-erior level of bullshit."

At this, Kal-El looked down, then back up, then, in an instant, Luthor's arms dropped freely, of their own, to his side, and he looked to confirm his lack of chains.

"Thank you," Lex said, rubbing his wrists, "but wasn't that a little late, coming? It's obvious, you don't entertain much..."

Kal-El firmed his jaw at this constant disregard from his erstwhile close friend.

Taking a deep breath, Kal-El addressed Luthor: "Lex, I really can't handle you getting around the law, like you always do, on this one."

"Excellent, Kal-El!" Luthor applauded, "You've got that 'Alien Conqueror' whole thing just nailed. You know: rise above the earth, then hold yourself above the law."

Abashed, Kal-El struggled to regain his posture of certitude and his brows fretted slightly before he commenced again.

Lex had to turn his face, to veil his mirthful satisfaction.

"Lex - Lex, I'm not really saying it's the best thing -"

With sardonic tone, Luthor chimed, "I think the Supreme Court and the President would agree, so why don't you just return me right now and -"

"Lex!" Kal-El found his strength, "I won't let you do anything like 33.1 again!"

With an exaggerated eye-roll, Luthor delivered, "Fine!" and he acted as if the summit had be reached.

"The lawyers of your choice," Lex said, "will draw up -"

Luthor leaned into the super-being's face as he went on, and Kal-El drew his mitts into fists on either side of his hips and he glowered downward at him.

Distracting himself from Luthor's spiel, Kal-El pro-actively scanned him for any illnesses or conditions, before his confinement at the Fortress of Solitude.

That done, Kal-El found himself drawing softly his regard across the smooth, pale face bristling before him, noting which pore was of trifling concern today... counting the times ginger lashes darted down then swept themselves upward like wings ...checking if taunting lips were parching for want of water.

He picked up Luthor's rant: "-any contractual arrangement you want and I will sign it immediately, and then will you pull that Kryptonite hair out of whatever you have for an exit orifice?"

Trying to end it, Kal-El delivered with full glower, "Luthor! I will not let you!"

That halted Lex, and his smile grew malicious.

Oh," Lex breathed with soft sounds, so satisfied, "I see you're finally admitting: it's just you and me, this is all about."

Kal-El took a nanosecond to gulp, without notice, then voiced, "No, Lex, that's not it..."

He swirled away a few steps, to get some relief, then turned and said, "Or, at least, it's not that simple."

Luthor stayed quiet, and the explanation continued.

Turning back, with a thoughtful glance, Kal-El stumbled out, "I...I don't know what to do about you, Lex ...I don't... know what to do about you..." and he stared off as he paused.

Now Luthor was worried. A kidnapping alien unsure of his purpose was a scenario Lex needed to manipulate to his advantage and contain within the realm of normal affairs... by setting limits.

"Kal-El," Luthor asked congenially, "it would be wise to consult with an attorney before you indulge your understandable -" and oh, was he conceding, "-distress, and we'll meet back here in, say, four hours? That'll give you -"

Softly came the negation, "No, Lex, I'll see you in about nine weeks..."

"Nine weeks?" Lex vituperated, "Are you fucking out of your mind? You know what nine weeks will do to my -" but he was cut off.

"Wait! I know now, Lex!" Kal-El said, his expression firm with sudden resolve. "I know, now, what to do with you!"

"Do with me?" Luthor blurted indignantly, then admonished himself, ~~~keep quiet~~~listen~~~.

For, now Kal-El's face was hopeful, and he looked at peace with himself.

"Listen, Lex," Kal-El explained, "you have to stay here and solve one of the top problems of humanity ...a Nobel Prize-level solution...and then I'll let you go back to your life."

Beginning to look like he'd been called out, Luthor responded with tone low, "You'll 'let' me go back to my life?"

Then he took-in Kal-El's unwavering expression.

"And, while we're at it," Lex went onward with hyperbole, "why don't I solve time travel and, and - hey, why don't I build a machine that can put all of your Humpty-Dumpty Planet back together again, and -"

"Quiet!" Kal-El spat at that, and Luthor let the disdain of his own features finish for him.

"You will stay over there," Kal-El stated, and he pointed his arm forth to the distance, "on that plateau."

"I've already provided living quarters," he added, "and once I get you over there, I'll outfit the most advanced lab you've ever seen," tacking on his own brand of smirk.

The decree was enacted, as Lex found himself being flown toward the far mesa. Riding with the crook of his arm caught around Kal-El's neck, Luthor's eyes sought all from around him as he was floated through that Escher-like landscape.

Having landed Luthor upon his feet, Kal-El stood back, muscles beneath bright blue rippling as he fanned his elbows out to rest his fists upon his hips.

Kal-El added, "You'll also have the use, within limits, of the Artificial Intelligence that's based here."

"You mentioned that," Luthor mentioned, "I was going to ask you about it -"

Lex was cut-short by Kal-El's hand outstretched flat, stopping Lex mid-sentence, and the alien stood transfixed, looking as if listening.

Now: "That's it... no more talk... you'll have all you'll need... I've got to leave now."

And, Kal-El was there no more.

Luthor whirled, to verify his abandonment.

"That's it?" Lex shouted upward through the few snow flakes that swirled around him, from the sudden departure.

"And, nine fucking weeks?" and he was warmed in the Artic air by his fury.

His arms waiving as he decried his fate to the sepulchral silence.

Luthor was nearly caught off-balance, by the quiet sound of a greeting emanating from above him, to his side.

And he swung around, to behold:

A flickering image of Clark as he remembered him, the old Clark, with short, juvenile bangs, and red plaid flannel...

And, Lex gaped.

~~~My Clark!~~~ Lex thought.

He walked around it, seeing it flicker at times. It was actually a form, appearing three-dimensional, but it was not solid - he could see through it somewhat.

~~~it's~~~it's just the~~~ image~~~and mannerisms~~~ overlaid~~~ Luthor began to conjecture.

Now, it 'spoke' to him, a second time, evidently, to hail, although the voice emanated from above.

"I was saying, hello, Mister Luthor, I am the Artificial Intelligence embodying this structure."

Luthor stared.

"Before Kal-El departed," the introduction continued, "I was instructed to interface with you, and you are in my care when Kal-El is away."

Luthor wasn't putting effort into answering the echoing voice from above, synched to those perfect lips. Instead, his expression twisted into one of true personal offense.

"How dare you do this to me?" he coldly demanded of the flickering projection, staring into down-to-the-last-wavelength-correct green, young eyes.

"How dare you taunt me with the image of your master from... before... when he was my faithless friend?"

The imago's answering smile was open and calm - so like the charming boy of a decade ago. The form ducked its face down then looked up, through a fringe of hair.

Luthor swallowed to settle himself.

"With all respect, Mister Luthor," the voice came down to him with steady, slow explanation, "this is the persona your own subconscious presented to me."

~~~and the minx has the nerve to slip in a grin~~~ Luthor noticed in annoyance.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lex demanded with affront.

At the same time, he stepped closer to examine all around the flickering almost-boy, and he had a grudging sense of marvel at the lips moving with the gentle voice that floated down to him from somewhere in the heights above.

"Mister Luthor," and the holographic solid spoke, as it's agate-green eyes followed the man examining him, "I merely evaluated your brain-data for the persona you'd feel most at ease with, and would be the most receptive to, which is essential for us to perform our tasks together to the utmost level of achievement."

~~~uncanny~~~ Luthor couldn't suppress the thought, as he resumed his inspection - at the same time, tamping-down his own memories brought forth from seeing this, this flimsy thing - that looked like his Clark.

Those golden cheeks, perfect under sun-kissed rose, called Lex closer, to examine. Then, they flickered, and he resumed his annoyance.

"You went into my brain?" he halted and then he stood tall, "I don't like your assumption that you have de facto access to my mind."

The three-dimensional imago of young Clark held up its palm in peace, speaking, "Your mind is your own, Mister Luthor, but your brain is a database which I can access purely on a read-only basis."

Lex quirked his lips and tightly bit out, "I forbid you access to my brain ever again, as a self-aware, indigenous life form, and if you don't respect that, then we have nothing to 'interface' about."

A small smile and young Clark's image replied, "Then, we have no problem, Mister Luthor," and he held the smile too long - intentionally, Lex began to feel.

Luthor's face soured as he nodded, then declared solemnly, "Oh, so you already retrieved everything there was to possess, didn't you?"

The smile on the boyish image did not alter.

"Mister Luthor," and the image flickered again, "we are wasting your time - I believe you want to get back to your life as soon as possible." He raised his brows innocently.

Beginning with a faint growl, Luthor voiced, "You're just as dubious and manipulative as Clark, your face-sake.

"Interestingly enough," suddenly, a different, harsh, voice began to bloom, as the image shifted into the form of his late-father, Lionel.

"I am the next persona down, Lex, Dear Boy - and, although I am, of course, gratified whenever you come to your senses, Lex...about how we are a team," - the toothy grin turned ugly - "there's the matter of my being second to your sophomoric wet-dream fantasy -" and he was sharply interrupted.

"Bring back my Clark!"

And, it was so.

The flickering imago of the golden boy with the beaming smile returned - a smile held-back, a tiny bit, just enough, so as not to presume impersonation of the original.

Nonetheless, Lex focused on the agate-green irises of this alien interface persona, window-orbs of his new artificial helpmate, looking for something he thought he just now saw - a glint, there!

- and Luthor immediately postulated it as the AI bleeding-through.

~~~definitely, amusement on a deeper level than the real, simple Clark could ever have evinced~~~ Lex sniffed.

"I am yourClark, Mister Luthor," the steady voice sounded from above, and Lex watched the mist-faded tint of hisClark's lips move, seeing vaguely through the thing, to the strange, swirling landscape surrounding them.

"And, as you know, I have already set the ambient temperature for this plateau; please inform me if you wish it attenuated. I can answer your questions, within limits, I'm sure you'll understand. Please acquaint yourself with your closet of clothes and the food set out, and your customary refreshment is awaiting you at the side-table."

Taking a Greyhound's bead across the icy white floor, Luthor muttered, "Good boy," as he made rapid strides to the Scotch.

**

When his second drink was a brief, intense memory, Luthor moved to the seating within his living zone and chose a black, plush divan.

As he sank in, then settled back, to sip, he stared, frankly.

~~~it's just~~~uncanny~~~ Lex couldn't leave off feeling, while his rational mind occupied itself listing and evaluating the particulars of his present situation.

~~~it almost seems like a person~~~but I can tell it's not solid~~~

Eventually, the ghostly image flickered then offered a suggestion.

"Another option would be for you to use manual-entry consoles, although you would be slowed by the necessity of learning the fine-points of the crystal-system..."

"Fine!" Lex conceded, and you could tell, it smarted.

"You stay," Lex added, "but I refuse the propaganda aspect of this, with your blatant ingratiation, and..."

And, hisClark patiently bore all, until Lex quieted, then the alien interface efficiently directed Luthor's attention to an icy panel upon which a list of mankind's hundred or so gravest problems had been projected.

Luthor ignored it, for now. He was still observing the interface.

After a while, Lex lowered a keen eye and asked, "Surely, your holographic capability is superior to what you're demonstrating."

~~~that spark in its eye, again~~~ Lex noted, then hisClark spoke.

"The flicker is timed to draw random eye movement to me just before I make a statement," hisClark confessed, not a whit abashed - if anything, hisClark showed himself to be more assessing of his human charge, "and at occasional times in between."

Another sip, another while, and Luthor stated, "You know, of course, that your master is insane."

HisClark took this with sophisticated good humor, with a subtle tilt of head and barely-pursed lips.

~~~so very sharp~~~and yet it still mimics Clark remarkably~~~ Luthor thought, then mused aloud, "What a chimera you are."

HisClark bowed a bit, small smile returning.

Lex looked down to swirl his drink and he grinned.

"I'm not going to indulge in bemoaning my fate, nor do I have any illusions about my ability to persuade Self-Righteous Man to release me without my having...paid my," Lex smirked richly, "'penance to society'."

Resigned, liquidly relaxed, Lex looked toward hisClark, and asked, "What resources do you have to offer me in this Ghandi-esque redemptive mission I'm stuck with, if anything, to while-away the time, until our Caped Caveman returns to his den?"

To business once again, hisClark blandly summed it with, "I can provide you any data on your planet, plus quantum processing speed."

Luthor blanched, "Any data on the planet?"

At hisClark's confirmation, Lex dully said, "Wait until I fetch that decanter over there, Alien-Interface Kent-Boy, and I pour myself another, okay?"

"Alrighty, now" Luthor plopped down upon his seating area's divan, "Let's go over what you know about my business."

**

~~~oh, this is not good~~~ Luthor moaned internally.

~~~this is~~~very~~~not good~~~ and he set the slitted eyes of the suffering upon the imago that was steadily snuffing his dreams of surreptitious hegemony.

When Lex managed to lift a limp hand to stop the onslaught pouring from hisClark - sensitive details of project after project - he muttered, "Well, I'll have to figure out a way to relieve you of that level of intimacy with my affairs -"

"Good luck!" came snark so typical of the real boy that Lex, in a moment of irrational consternation, considered, then discarded, that this had been some charade -

~~~is this really Kal-El?~~~ Lex quirked his brows ~~~just fucking with my mind?~~~

Then Lex shook his head, thinking ~~~no, no, no~~~this alien interface is more on my level~~~not like that ox-brained, boring…~~~ and internally he ran down favorite descriptors, as he and the glimmering imago shared looks with each other.

At last, Luthor stated, "Well, it's been a hell of a day."

Then, "And, I think I'm going to shower, then retire for the evening."

Lex waited.

He continued, "Could you please 'turn off' and leave me alone," and hisClark vanished leaving Lex to mutter, "though, I don't think there's any 'alone' for me anywhere, it seems," and he entered to familiarize himself with the his accommodations.

**

A sifted flake of tiny chill left melted snow upon Lex's cheek and he awoke, opening his eyes to the diffuse glow of pale gray that were the walls of his sleep chamber.

"You let that one get through, you Son-of-a-Bitch!" he raised his voice, then coughed his throat clear a couple of times as he lifted himself to one elbow, surveying the steadily lightening scene.

"My apologies," came the boyish voice from somewhere above the imago, when it appeared to him at the side of his bed.

"Your own body," it said, "was in its pre-waking sequence and I robbed you of less than a minute."

Luthor was snagging a thick terry robe and he set the owlish eyes of the newly-arisen upon hisClark throughout the duration of his dressing. Settling his jacket then touching-up his tie, Lex finally addressed his keeper.

"Explain why you did that to me," Luthor bit out.

"I was determining your level of sensitivity," came the voice, and Lex noted that the image no longer bothered to flicker for him.

"I see," Lex snapped, "so, the bonus of this is, Alien Interface Kent-Boy gets its own test animal?"

Luthor goaded on, "Right? You two aren't happy with usurping legal authority ...now, I'm blessed with your idea of Kent-Karma...personified even, for chrissake ...dishing what you think I do, back at me?"

HisClark explained levelly, "You're thinking of 'Knowledge is power' - that's not what this is."

"What, then?" Luthor flashed, "'Idle curiosity'?"

"Not 'idle'," and hisClark gave a friendly enough look.

As his brows raised height, Lex answered this with an astonished start, and his blue eyes tracked back and forth across the open face presented to him.

"So," Luthor piped in amazement, "being shanghaied into this scalable Community Service Project, and...and having to live with the... warped image of someone... whom I hate ...that isn't enough?" and his hands were spread wide in the air as he gestured.

"No!" he expostulated in rhetorical reply, "You get to fuck with me, too."

HisClark said mildly, "Now, you're thinking in terms of abuse, and that's off the mark as well."

"All right," Lex challenged, "explain yourself."

The image of young Clark smiled and spoke, "Have you not felt someone stir, beside you, and touched their cheek?"

With a small intake of air, Luthor took a lurching step back and stared, and he found hisClark's glinting eyes inscrutable now.

On auto-pilot until he regained mastery of himself, Lex turned and made for his refreshment area.

~~~what a freaky entity~~~ he thought with a shudder.

Lex complained over his shoulder, "Part of me wants to ask if my Father's behind all this," but his eager hands were left empty when he saw no fresh decanter available in the matter box, and he twisted around to face the imago, last straw.

"Breakfast first," hisClark grinned.

"Well," Lex snapped, imagining himself striking, for a moment, that boyish grin, "now I know Dad's behind it," and he approached the holographic imago to make a stand.

"Is this to be a place of no personal freedom?" he asked, placing his hands in his pockets as he faced the form.

"Actually," adopting a slightly sheepish pose, hisClark said, "this one is due to Kal-El. I, myself, know that you are capable of functioning quite well while you abuse your organs," and he finished with a wry set to his lips.

Lex only gave a slight take at that, catching those glinting eyes, then went on, ignoring the entendre and instead assuming a bored voice.

"Fine, what do I have to eat, in order to drink?" at which hisClark proceeded to set out a light meal.

**

Crystal glass grasped in hand at last ~~~well-earned~~~ he thought, Luthor settled himself within his seating area.

Addressing the holographic imago, 'standing' some feet before him, "Here, let me see your top ten of 'Mankind's Gravest Ills'," he asked, as if they were something to get out of the way by dinnertime.

The abbreviated list was projected, once again utilizing a shale-face of white ice before him, and hisClark removed itself from the line of sight.

"Global Warming," Lex read aloud then continued.

"Yeah, well, that would impact too many of my own industries, so that's getting bumped."

He turned to hisClark, "Besides, I know someone with The Frigid Breath of Doom," and he gave an errant shrug, "so, no worries."

"Let's see: Energy Crisis," he read on.

"Okay, that's how we get my industries out of the Global Warming issue. Great, let's go with that one."

**

Sixteen hours and two meals later, Luthor was showering before bed.

~~~not a bad day~~~ he mused lazily ~~~and if you're in my mind, Mister Alien Interface, you can go fuck yourself~~~

- which brought up images of his artificial companion obeying obligingly.

- which Lex's body offered to assist.

~~~god, I am so damned~~~

His regular, his normal, even his very favorite Clark fantasies: old news.

Soon, Lex was desperately flashing through his memories of his day with the monster who toyed with him, of the boy who cared for him, the green-eyed, full-lipped, golden beauty, the glint of intelligence...

"OH!" Lex exclaimed then bit back his sounds as he released.

He was left to brace himself against the smooth shower wall, warm pelt of the raining water enhancing the glow.

~~~jeezus fucki